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The Existential Compost
3rd June 2015
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6th September 2016
Dear Sticky Toffee Pudding with Hot Custard,
I'm so sorry I can't eat you at the moment. You've been calling me for two weeks now. Quiet at first. Almost a whisper. Maybe once a day. Now you're calling me every hour. Sometimes several times an hour. Unfortunately, we can never be as one. Well not at the moment.
I know we've had meetings several times in the past and they were fun. We had so much fun. The pleasure you gave me. The satisfaction of spoonsful of your hot creamy goodness being ladled into my mouth. The feeling of your moist, sweet and sticky sponginess on my tongue making me groan in adoration and delight. But no more. At least not for now.
We must wait. Wait for the time to be right to recreate our union. For now, I must share moments like those we once did, however fleeting, with two chocolate hobnobs and 10 salt crackers washed down with a hot cup of chemically sweetened tea.
They're not as good as you. Nor will they ever be. It is my lot. My penance for our previous overindulgences in your brown oozy goodness.
It will pass. Like a really difficult poo. Eventually. If we're patient.
Until then, we must accept the situation we find ourself in. Please stop calling me. Allow me to mourn your passing like a 12-inch pepperoni pizza with pineapple and anchovies, 5 finger cream cake selections and custard doughnuts. Allow me to transition through the eating regieme I now must follow. Taunt me no more you sweet seductive Enchantress of Confection.
22nd August 2016
(no subject) @ 06:30
How old were you when you first caught a bus by yourself?
I have never caught a bus by myself
I live on a bus
I am allergic to buses
Buses offend me
Buses are against my religion
What is a bus?
I hate you Butler
I am a bus
I have never caught a bus because I can't find the right bait
I have never caught a bus because I can never find a net big enough
3rd June 2016
Richard Harris @ 18:56
Much like my recent revelation that Facebook is the natural evolutionary descendant of AOL and Compuserve style web portals, I was struck today with a thought about the impending EU referendum facing the UK in the next few weeks.
While using all my journalistic skills to not allude to which way I feel the referendum should go, I realised that the last time Britain was in a similar situation was when old Olly Cromwell convinced the country that regicide was the way forward for a better Britain. Although the concept of a British republic appeals to me (but only if we took the Leveller's approach), Cromwell's Britain, history tells us, was an unpleasant time with lots of people getting bumped off for being witches, some unfortunate destruction of castles and some nastiness for the Irish.
Now I'm not saying that we'll have an ancient monument destroying Irish persecuting witch burning time as a result of the outcome of the referendum but I can envisage a potentially awful period of history that could have similar catastrophic results.
I've never been more worried about a political choice decided by the public than this Referendum. Reflecting on the two previous referenda in the UK (the Scottish vote and the AV referendum, which I believe were trial runs) and the surprise result of the recent general election, I can't help feeling that insidious powers are at work to fudge the result to suit a cabal of nefarious ne'er do wells hell bent on a New World order, or an old one for that matter.
25th April 2016
Future @ 18:45
Some years back I went to see Tommy Steele at the Liverpool Empire with Previous-Mrs-Gnomepants, my mum and my dad. It was a Christmas present to my olds based on how much my mum liked Tommy Steele. During the show, this old geezer came on stage, sang a bit, then everyone clapped and we went home. I later found out that the old geezer was Tommy Steele.
Old dear Oooh I remember Showaddywaddy, their song wur playin' when I met your granddad. We danced and he kissed me.
I then turned to a similar scenario forty years from now:
Futuristic Old dear Oooh I remember that Shakira, her song wur playin' when I met your granddad. We twerked, we went down an alley and had a shag, I didn't get his name
I fear for the future of humanity.
21st April 2016
Gruff Rhys - I Love EU @ 19:35
20th April 2016
Donkey Sausages @ 22:12
A wise old Irish man (now probably deceased) once said to me: "If you have a car, ye'll nay ha' nee money begorra"
18th April 2016
Injunctions @ 19:46
Personally I don't give a flying fuck about Elton and David's threesome troubles, what I do give a flying fuck about is the insidious use of "injunctions" and for that matter super injunctions in regard to the use of off shore Panamanian bank accounts to circumvent local tax laws by political figures and heads of state.
3rd April 2016
Of Pools, Pubes and Polls @ 18:44
March turned out to be better than February could ever be. For one it wasn't February but ulitmately it was a month of busy weekends.
I don't usually like busy weekends. I like to relax on a Sunday. Get my homework done before school on Monday. Yes, at 42 I still have that Sunday anxiety. I'm only less stressed by Sunday because That's Life isn't on any more.
A trip to Liverpool was also had in March. I took Zoefruitcake to New Brighton for a day trip while my olds cooked dinner. New Brighton used to be a popular "seaside" (more estuary side) resort, much akin to Llandudno, Blackpool or, indeed, old Brighton. At one point it had a tower, a winter gardens, a pier and an amusement park. Gradually, however, things went wrong, people stopped coming, opting for more exotic places like Torremelinos, the tower burnt down (and was turned into luxury flats), the pier was washed away (and was turned into luxury flats), the winter gardens were given a bit of a down sizing (to make way for luxury flats) and the amusement park caught fire, got flooded, almost got sold to developers hoping to build luxury flats, was restored and then caught fire again and was restored once more by what one can only describe as a troupe of travelling carnival ride owners who now want to settle in some nice seaside luxury flats.
It does still have a castle and a lighthouse though (with planning permission pending for luxury flats).
Other events included, Easter.
Easter was pleasant. There was a moment when the expensive vegan chocolate I ordered for the Fruitcake nearly didn't arrive. But now she has at least a years supply of chocolate thanks to panic buying and late deliveries. So that should last her until Friday next week.
We also visited the Kelmarsh Show. We opted to go on the Sunday, arguing that with it being Easter Sunday, there would be nicer weather and less people. It was slightly busy but it was windy and cold though. Saw lots of nommy food and interesting stalls which, had I been wealthy, I would no doubt have spent a fortune in. Cakes, pies, jams, chutneys, hats, coats and even guns and walking sticks were available. A shame I had only £10. The show was rained off on the Monday so I think we were lucky. Roll on Hollowell in July!
In other website news, the music project has finally reached "G". I've been scared of G because I had a lot (30) of albums titled "Gothic Music Compiliation". After some determined digital spring cleaning, I managed to reduce them to one. However, I then realised I had a lot of albums titled "Greatest Hits". I expect to reach "H" some time in August.
Took a trip to West Wycombe to see the Hell Fire Caves. Curiously they're laid out very similarly to the Shell Grotto in Margate and Williamson Tunnels in Liverpool. I mused on whether anyone else had noticed the similarities. Probably not.
Anyway, it was during our visit I became aware of how people these days seem to just race through attractions like this without actually reading or listening to the information provided, finding out why these things are here, how they were built and why and I wondered also if people enjoy being fucking ignorant.
It's election time in Parish Council environs. It's an odd time. I have to fill in about 10 forms and hand deliver them (by appointment) before April 7th. I have little time left. One of the questions the form asks for is my electoral roll number. I didn't know it. I do now. I was so fucking ignorant. I enjoyed being so.
Please watch this:
Do you shave your intimate bits?
Mind your own business
I am allergic to pubes
I am offended by pubes
I don't believe in the existence of pubes
Pubes are against my religion
Do you know your electoral roll entry number?
8th March 2016
March of March @ 21:09
The beard didn’t last but due to post pubescence neither did the smooth baby bum face.
I now no longer have a beard; I am not a hipster.
The other weekend, wife and I went to Coton Manor Gardens in Northamptonshire. I think if I had a massive house with beautiful gardens I too would charge people £3.50 (out of season) to have a mooch around. As it happens, I live in a tiny house with a beautiful garden. I think comparatively, I should charge people £1 to have a mooch around. It has impressive weeds and interesting concrete features.
Linked.in was always a go to place for me to find work. I’m rapidly realising that I would loath working with many of the people on my “connections”. I cringe when people become all “corporate” and “product” orientated and some of the job titles people give themselves make me glad I voluntarily reject that lifestyle and mentality. Especially as, with each budget, it seems I’ll be able to retire when I’m in my 90s if it continues. The thought of working in an environment like that is just soul destroying.
Had a rib eye steak tonight. I’d been looking forward to it since the weekend. Sadly it was rancid by the time I’d taken it out of the wrapping, cooked it and cut a piece off to eat. In the end, the wife and I nipped out to Waitrose where I obtained a fresher but slightly less glamorous sirloin.
I attended a lecture about cuts of beef a few years ago which taught me a lot about the various cuts of beef. The best being the spider steak (so called because the fat looks like a spider, or so I’m told) and that the level of marbling in the steak indicates the level of flavour. Back in the day, leaner steak was more expensive than fattier steak, purely led by the surge towards cutting fat in the diet and in some “cheaper” supermarkets this is still the case. Waitrose is wise to this and make the fattier pieces more expensive while the leaner pieces of meat tend to be “standard” prices.
Oh marketing. Oh lifestyles. What wicked relatives you are.
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The Existential Compost